Watering Can
by cakefic
Summary: Little Roger Davis helps his mom out in the garden, only to cause a problem or two. PreRENT. Kiddie MarkRoger friendship. written for speed rent.


**Title:** Watering Can  
**Author:** Kristie "MrS. LuCkY SpEnCeR" (monorail geek at lj)  
**Feedback:** Is like Reese's Cups, Disney World, fajitas, Mark/Roger fluff, and La Vie Boheme on repeat…all in the same day. :D  
**Pairing:** Kiddie-Mark/Roger friendship  
**Word Count:** 879  
**Rating:** G/K

**Genre: **General  
**Summary:** Little Roger Davis helps his mom out in the garden, only to cause a problem or two. PreRENT. Kiddie Mark/Roger friendship.  
**Notes:** Written for speed rent challenge 177. The prompt was "I didn't mean to kill it/he/she. I just wanted to help it/him/her" I've felt like writing Kiddie-Rent stuff lately. Don't ask why, as I don't have an answer. This is Crazy Kiddie-Roger and Cute Kiddie-Mark.  
**Special Thanks:** People who have enough patience to tend a garden.  
**Spoilers:** Mark wears glasses!  
**Warnings:** Kiddie grammar. Which is bad grammar.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rent, and I most likely never will.

"Okay, Rog, honey!" Cheryl Davis called for her young son, "Roger, pay attention to mommy! Roger! Roger, get OUT of there! Roger, NO!" she ran over to the garden hose that her five year-old son was getting tangled in.

She lifted the boy into her arms, causing him to protest.

"Mommy! Put me down! I was havin' fun! I was gonna turn the hose on!"

"I know you were, honey. You know you're not supposed to touch the hose."

"But…Gramma lets me use the hose at her house." Cheryl put Roger down, licked her fingers and started wiping dirt off his cheek. He wiped her slobber of with his sleeve when she was done, disgusted.

"Well, that's because Grandma's senile." Cheryl said of her ex-boyfriend, Roger's father's, mother, "She also doesn't understand how much of a handful you can be sometimes."

It was true. About fifty percent of the time, Roger was bouncing off the walls. He was always causing mischief, always into something. She hadn't brought him back to the supermarket since the maple syrup incident the year before.

And as a single mother, she didn't have the energy to keep up with him a good amount of the time. He had been visiting Grandma increasingly lately, as she needed her rest.

"Roger, how would you like to help mommy with the garden?" she put on her garden gloves. She knew she was lucky her parents had been so generous. Roger had been born when she was nineteen, and her parents had helped a great deal financially. When they moved out of town they had given Cheryl their house. She and Roger lived in a nice neighborhood in Cheryl's native Scarsdale, with nice neighbors. The Cohens, across the street had a little boy just Roger's age, who he played with.

Roger shrugged.

"Here", she said, picking up a full watering can and handing it to her son, "Tip it over and sprinkle a little water on the soil around the marigolds, right here. Not too much, honey. There, just right." She instructed.

"What is that for, mommy?" Roger looked up at her.

"The flowers are drinking the water. Flowers need water and sun to live."

"Can we give them tuna sandwiches? They're **probly** hungry, too."

Cheryl laughed, "No, baby. Plants make their own food in a process called photosynthesis. They are able to do this by the energy from the sun."

"Photo**synfinis**?" Roger looked up blankly at his mother.

Maybe she was a little early with this science lesson.

Roger poured some water on a different patch of dirt, and began making mud. He sat down and started playing with it.

Cheryl didn't stop him. She was giving him a bath when they got back inside, anyway. What's a little mud?

"Hi, Cheryl!" Mrs. Cohen called from across the street, sitting on her porch, little Mark running around the yard.

"Hi, Mrs. Cohen!" she called back, "How is everything?"

"Just great! Cindy's been enthusiastic about her summer reading and I just enrolled Mark in AM Kindergarten for the fall. Have you signed little Roger up yet?"

"No, but I was thinking about going down this week."

Cheryl Davis wasn't looking forward to sending Roger off to Kindergarten. He'd been her only company for the past five years. He was growing up, whether it seemed like it or not.

"Hi, Roger!" the tiny, bespectacled, blond boy from across the street called to his best friend.

"Hi, Markie!" Roger waved, his hands covered in mud, "Mommy?" he tugged on her shorts, leaving mud marks, "Can Markie come over and play?"

Mrs. Cohen helped Mark cross the street less than a minute later, and stayed to talk with her neighbor.

"Whatcha doin', Roger?"

"I'm makin' mud pies. Wanna play?"

Mark looked down at his navy blue polo and white shorts.

"I don't think so."

"You're missin' out." Roger stood up, and pointed the marigolds his mother had put him in charge of, "Mommy's lettin' me water those. I think they might be thirsty again." Roger picked up the watering can again and headed over, while Mark trailed behind.

Roger eyed the flowers. They were so small. The sun wasn't shining, but there wasn't rain. They were going to need a lot of water.

"Are you sure you wanna do that, Roger?" Mark asked nervously, as Roger poured the entire watering can directly on the plant.

"Yup. It needs it."

"Whatever you say, Rog."

* * *

"Oh, Roger? What did you do?" Mark asked Roger, who was sitting next to the marigolds, the next week.

"I didn't mean to kill it. I just wanted to help it."

"It was the water, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's what my mommy says. I gave it too much."

Mark felt bad because Roger felt bad. Killing these flowers had really upset him.

"Well, Rog, my mommy told me what happened, and I wanted to give you these." Mark handed Roger a small packet.

The packet was decorated with photographs of sunflowers. They were sunflower seeds.

"Sunflowers! For me?"

"Uh-huh. You could grow these instead. They'll be healthy and pretty."

Roger smiled at his best friend's generosity.

"Thanks, Markie!"

Mark blushed as Roger jumped up and hugged him.

"You're the best friend I could ever have, Mark."

**THE END**


End file.
